


making repairs

by sugardelivery



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Asphyxiation, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugardelivery/pseuds/sugardelivery
Summary: After Tosen makes handiwork of Grimmjow's arm, Gin sends you off to patch up the former-Espada.Grimmjow/reader with no specified gender. No use of y/n or blanks.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. meeting

**Author's Note:**

> cw for physical abuse via suffocation
> 
> i don't actually know where i'm going with this, but i've had this idea rattling around in my noggin for a couple days and i had to get it out.

Hueco Mundo was in chaos, with chatter from various arrancar servants filling the halls. A meeting had just finished up and word had it that one of the scarier Espada just got his arm sliced clean off by one of the Shinigami.

“We’re lucky we don’t serve any Espada,” a fellow servant murmured to you, as she carried fresh linens. You nodded, walking along with your own basket of new soaps and clean cups. Life as a servant for the Shinigami was mundane, but it was way better than being a Fracción on the front lines.

Your day to day normally involved cleaning up after Gin Ichimaru, who wasn’t very messy to begin with. You hardly saw any of the Espada nor the Shinigami around Hueco Mundo, especially not lately. Plans had started to move and things were changing. Your quiet, relatively content life in Hueco Mundo was going to come to an end.

-

Gin rarely called for you specifically. You would change his linens, replace his towels, and just generally make sure his room was tidy, and you'd make sure to do this without him having to ask. He wasn’t a very demanding man. That made it all the more surprising when he summoned you.

“Collect your things. We’re going to visit an Espada,” he said, with his usual sly kitsune-like face. You nodded and teetered off to your barracks, filling your bag with the bare necessities. You wondered which Espada you’d be seeing. Hopefully it wasn’t Szayelaporro.

Gin was waiting for you outside of your room. “We are paying a visit to a certain cat,” he stated, answering your question before you could ask. “He has a job to do, and I need to make sure he does that job.” You followed him quietly.

“Gin-sama,” you started. “What job is that?”

He smiled back at you. “Secret.”

Once you arrived outside of the former Sexta Espada’s room, you could hear things shattering inside. You looked up at Gin, who swung the door open with no hesitation.

“Throwing a fit?” Gin asked Grimmjow, who was still a bloody mess from earlier that morning. He had clearly been taking his anger out on his room, which was covered in broken glass and what you think used to be furniture. Several dismantled body parts were scattered about, no doubt from not-so-bright arrancars who crossed paths with the former-Espada before he made it back to his lodging.

“Get the fuck out!” Grimmjow snarled at Gin, launching a glass cup at the Shinigami’s head. Gin moved aside slightly, dodging the cup and watching it shatter on the wall.

“I come with a gift!” Gin exclaimed, raising his arms. That was your cue to step forward. You stepped into the room, meek and afraid. Grimmjow’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t need any of your servants,” he wheezed, picking up some cutlery and preparing to launch it at your head.

“It seems like you need somebody to tidy up around here. All your Fracción are gone,” the fox-like man replied succinctly. Grimmjow launched the fork your way, but Gin caught it. “If you want to kill my gift to you, at least wait until I leave.” He dropped the fork as he swayed out of the room. Just like that, you were alone with a man who clearly didn't want to be bothered.

Grimmjow was bleeding profusely, haggard. You could tell that the recently slain arrancar that littered the floor didn’t cause him any damage, but the exhaustion from getting his arm cut off was doing just enough. Not to mention that his pride was shattered after being removed as a ranked Espada. He glared at you from the dark of his room.

“I-if you’re going to kill me, at least allow me to tend to your wounds first, Grimmjow-sama,” you manage to sputter out, taking out bandages and disinfectant from your bag. He sucked his teeth and sat on what used to be his bed. You stared at him rather blankly for a moment before he barked at you.

“Well, get it over with!” he shouted. You tiptoed over to him quietly, trying to avoid the hazards on the floor. His arm had been tied up around the cut messily, no doubt his own handiwork.

“This may sting,” you warned, before unwrapping his arm and prepping the disinfectant.

“Do you really think that some dumbshit medicine will hurt me?” he groaned at you. You were quickly reminded who you were tending to.

“N-no,” you let out. “I usually only perform first aid on other arrancar, and mainly ones that work as servants, so we don’t-”

“I don’t give a shit about your life story,” he interrupted. “Just patch me up already.” You stared at him for another second before he got the message and started to take off his half-jacket. You began to wrap his shoulder up, rolling the bandages around his chest to help add support. As you spread the bandages around his back, you noticed another injury: a huge bloody gash on his lower back, as if the skin was ripped clean off.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened. He was no longer an Espada, so his number was removed.

“Don’t touch it. I don’t need you to patch that up,” he shouted at you as your hands apprehensively moved towards the wound. You flinched back. “The wound ain’t deep, so it’s fine. It’ll heal on its own.” His brow furrowed, obviously irritated.

The wound was still bleeding and you knew better than to leave a man dripping blood over a room that you had to eventually clean. You thought for a moment before opening your mouth. “Well,” you started. “If you allow me to treat it, it’ll heal much better and you’ll be able to get your sexta insignia back on there sooner. If it heals weird, it may look disfigured or off when the time comes that you get your number back.” Grimmjow narrowed his eyes at you, for what seemed like the 20th time that day.

“Fine.” You patted down the wound with a towel, trying to clean up some of the blood before you sprayed the spot with disinfectant. He jumped a little bit. “It was cold,” he said quickly. You smiled a little bit as you began to apply some gauze and a bandage over the patch.

“It’s quite alright,” you replied in a comforting tone, finishing up. In the blink of an eye, Grimmjow grabbed you by the neck, forcing you against a wall.

“Don’t look at me like that, don't talk to me like that,” he hissed at you as you writhed under the pressure of his hand. “I don’t need your sympathy. You and Ulquiorra and Aizen … all of you guys can fuck off!”

Your eyes shut as you grabbed his wrist in an attempt to claw him off. His hand squeezed harder, bruising the sides of your neck as your face reddened.

“G-gin will-” you managed to wheeze out before being interrupted.

“Gin doesn’t give a fuck about you,” Grimmjow laughed. You knew he was right. Gin didn’t care about anyone at Hueco Mundo. The arrancar man squeezed harder, shoving you hard against the wall again. Your brain started to blur out, feeling fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. You shut your eyes tighter as tears squeezed out. You began to kick and squirm under the pressure of his grip until he finally let you go. “What a pathetic life you live. You’re in love with Gin? And he doesn’t give a shit whether you live or die.”

You inhaled a gulp of air to try to collect your thoughts, but the room was spinning. Did he say you loved Gin? You didn’t love Gin. You barely knew anything about Gin. Your brain was cloudy as you slumped against the wall.

“Are you gonna die now? At least clean this shit up first,” Grimmjow cackled as he gestured to the large mess he made earlier. "You sad, weak sack of shit."

You scrambled back up to your feet as quickly as you could, still leaning against the wall for support as you collected your thoughts and breath.

“W-where’s … cleaning …” you managed to croak out weakly.

“How the fuck would I know? Just dig around the Fraccións’ rooms or something,” he groaned back before flopping on his still-broken bed.

Slinking quietly out of his lodging and into nearby rooms, you eventually found enough things that you could make use of, including a broom, some old bed sheets, and some old towels. You quietly swept up the broken glass and mangled limbs onto an old bed sheet before tying it up and leaving it outside. You continued to glance over at Grimmjow every now and then, who had since fallen asleep, breathing heavily. He even sounded mad in his sleep.

You soaked the towels in warm water and tried to get the blood off the floor, but without proper cleaning equipment, unsightly red stains remained on the floor. Now able to breathe normally again, you moved some of the not-broken tables and chairs from the other rooms into Grimmjow’s, effectively replacing the broken wooden messes he left around his room.

The sound of the furniture being dragged on the Hueco Mundo concrete woke Grimmjow up. His eyes fluttered open drowsily. “Hey,” he mumbled at you, propping himself up on his elbow.

You turned around. “Grimmjow-sama, I finished cleaning and putting your room back together, so I think I should-”

“Shut up. C’mere,” he said quietly, beckoning you over. You cautiously walked up to him coming to terms with the fact that you were probably going to be killed now that you finished his work. If you ran, he certainly would kill you in a more brutal and humiliating way, so you might as well get it over with quick. You flinched as his arm swooped around your waist and pulled you into his bed. The bed had clearly been split down the middle, with several beams poking you. How could he sleep on this?

After you winced in discomfort, you quickly realized what happened. “Grimmjow-sama, what are you doing?” you asked quietly, trying not to shout. You glanced behind yourself and realized he was already asleep again, his breath hitting the back of your neck. His arm stayed looped around your waist and you realized you were better off waiting for him to fully wake up.


	2. breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning, you serve breakfast to a still-injured Grimmjow and you realize that you won't be going back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ԅ(¯﹃¯ԅ) i just wanted fics about one-armed grimmjow and now i'm writing one, apparently. no content warnings for this chapter.

You could barely close your eyes with Grimmjow’s arm around you. After about an hour, he released you and rolled over, allowing you to make your escape. It was late in the evening at this point, so you retired to a nearby old Fracción room that you didn’t strip of furniture.

You tried your best to sleep, but the thoughts of Grimmjow’s attack against you kept you awake until the sun rose. It was still early, but you decided to abandon the idea of sleep, and made your way to the kitchen instead. Several servants were already starting to prepare meals for the Shinigami and Espada. A handful called out to you once they saw you in your bruised state.

“Are you alright? What happened?” one asked. Another remarked about Grimmjow being a savage and getting what he deserved. You closed your eyes tight.

“I’m fine, I promise,” you replied. “I finished cleaning, so I should be able to come back to the main quarters soon!” You smiled reassuringly. That much had to be true, as Grimmjow was patched up and mostly calmed down. You put together breakfast on a tray: some grilled mackerel, a bowl of rice, a bowl of miso soup, and some pickled vegetables in individual small dishes. You added another bowl of rice and soup for yourself.

As you walked back to Grimmjow’s quarters, you began to fill with dread. What was about to even happen? Bringing food for the person you’re serving is customary and normal, but was he even going to remember last night? Was he really going to let you go back to the main quarters? Though lost in your thoughts, you arrived back at his room. Grimmjow was already awake, sitting up in his bed.

“I bought breakfast, Grimmjow-sama,” you said, separating your two bowls off the tray and setting it down on the table. He didn’t reply. “I’m going to take my dishes and I’ll leave you to eat.”

“Just eat here,” he grumbled. You stared at him before quietly placing your bowls down at the table and pulling out one of the chairs. He trudged over to the table and sat in the opposing chair, with one leg up on the chair, hunched over. “You were just gonna eat rice and soup? That’s even more pathetic than I thought,” he added. Ah, so he did remember yesterday.

You ate in silence for a bit, before he used his chopsticks to aggressively knock some of the side dishes your way. “Eat vegetables,” he said, knocking some pickled radish your way. Pickled radish hardly counted as a nutritious vegetable, but you appreciated the sentiment nonetheless. You grimaced in an attempt to hide your smile. The last time you smiled at Grimmjow, he pinned you against a wall and almost killed you, so you learned your lesson. His eyebrow twitched as he watched you try to keep composure. He shut his eyes and slammed his chopsticks on the table, making you jump a bit in your seat.

He sucked his teeth and scratched the back of his head sheepishly before opening his mouth. “You don’t have to be so uptight around me, y’know? You can laugh at things, if you want,” he finally said.

“O-oh, I see,” you replied, awkwardly. The whole thing was just so damn awkward. “It _is_ funny that you offered me vegetables,” you said, forcing a smile on your face. That wasn’t an apology, but it certainly felt like it was the closest you’d get.

“Listen, if you’re gonna stick around here and work under me, you gotta have some dignity,” he said, hitting his chest. Your eyes bugged out for a moment. Stick around here? You were going to leave after this meal. “You’re my new servant from Gin, after all. I figured I’d do you a favor. You can now get away from that guy and not have to worry about your feelings for him that would never be reciprocated.”

Your lips tightened into a line, as you weren’t totally sure if you should tell him that there’s been a huge misunderstanding. “Well,” you started. “I don’t think you understood what I was trying to say yesterday. I don’t … love Gin? I just work under him. I thought he’d be unhappy if you killed me, so-”

“You don’t have to lie to me!” Grimmjow laughed back, picking his chopsticks back up. He started to tear into the skin of the mackerel. You buried your face in your hands as he laughed. “Don’t be ashamed of being a weak piece of shit. There’s no point hiding it from me anymore!”

“I’m not hiding anything,” you mumbled, shoving some rice into your mouth. Your face was red at this point, frustrated. Finishing your meal, you piled your bowls up on the table. “Ah, about your bed,” you said, gesturing over to the broken pile of wood he was using. “I’m afraid I can’t replace it myself.”

“Because you’re too weak!” Grimmjow laughed even harder this time. “Oh, man. You’re so weak, you can’t move a bed frame.” You didn’t really have a complex about your lack of muscle before, but it almost felt like one was forming. “Don’t worry, smallfry. I’ll grab one myself after I finish eating.”

He scooted back away from the table and you started to collect his dishes back on to the tray. With ease, Grimmjow grabbed the broken pieces of bed frame and chucked them out the door. Picking that up would be a problem for another arrancar, hopefully not you. You left the room to take the dishes back to the kitchen as he left to scourge for another bed.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back!” a familiar servant said, taking your dishes.

“Er, well. I don’t know what’s going on? I think I have to stay with Grimmjow-sama,” you replied, furrowing your brow.

“You have got to be kidding,” the servant replied. “Do you want me to tell Gin-sama?”

“I don’t think Gin-sama … cares,” you said. “But don’t worry! I’ll tough it out!” You put your arm up, flexing it into a sad-looking muscle.

Upon returning, the bed had been replaced, with a mattress hastily thrown on top. Grimmjow was nowhere to be seen. You snatched up some spare bedding and began to spread them across the bed before getting pounced on by your new master.

He flipped you over to face him, holding your wrists above your head and locking your waist down with his legs. “Oh, come on!” he barked. “Fight back!” You squirmed and grunted, trying to twist yourself out of his grip but the pressure from the former-Espada was too much. 

“I can’t!” you whined, annoyed. Your wrists were locked into place with just one of his calloused hands. “How is this even fair?”

“Even with one arm, I could kill you so easily,” he whispered, putting his head next to yours. His boney mask scraped against your face. He finally got off of you, chuckling to himself. He waved his hand off at you as he strided to his bathroom. “You really need to do some training,” he said.

You sat up quickly, flustered by the man’s sudden attack, grabbing your own flushed face. If this is what it was going to be like serving Grimmjow, maybe you weren’t going to be able to tough it out after all.


End file.
